Star Wars: Choices
by MissScorp
Summary: Only after he has lost everything does Anakin Skywalker realize what his choices have cost him.


**Author's note**: This is a '_what if_' type story and my suggestion is to read it with the knowledge that this story is not supposed to be in **any way** canonical. It begs you to consider of what if events of ROTS had not occurred exactly as they did and what the galaxy might have been like. It is purely entertainment value only (been warned).

**Disclaimer**: Own nothing but the concept...

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**Coruscant, 18 B.B.Y.: Imperial Apartment Complex.**

This is Anakin Skywalker.

A man twisted by the deep rooted fears that he'd kept buried deep inside, but which now eat away at the walls of his heart, poisoning his already corrupted mind and lending strength to the dragon that resides deep within his soul. His guilt for the things he has done clouds his way of thinking, distorts his sense of judgment, and blinds him to the truths that are all around him. He is scarred by the anger that had been awakened in a moment of pure and unbridled jealous rage. He blames everyone but himself for the injustices that have befallen him- had Obi-Wan only listened, had the Council but granted him the rank of Master, had Padme just _trusted_ him. Ah, but he knows that everything that has befallen him is his own doing. It was the dragon that made it easy for him to believe the lies he tells himself. It was the dragon that distorted the truth of reality. It was the _dragon_ that had lured him with false promises of power. And it was the dragon that laughed at him, that tormented him, that taunted him with the truths that he had just been unable to see.

And it was the dragon that was named _Darth Vader_- not Anakin Skywalker. Wasn't it Darth Vader that was capable of wreaking sheer violence upon those that he considered his enemies after all? Wasn't it Darth Vader that was capable of the cold-blooded slaughter of innocent younglings and Padawans? And hadn't it been Darth Vader that had slaughtered the remainder of the Separatist army on Mustafar? It was Darth Vader that battled Anakin's best friend, his former Master. Only there was no dragon, he realized, gloved hands gripping the cold, wet railing in front of him. It had all been _him_. He _was_ Darth Vader. And there was no escaping the truth of the chaos and devastation that he has produced. No escaping that _his_ choices were what had plunged his world into emptiness and despair.

He was both the guardian and the destroyer. He was both the man capable of protecting those in need and the monster that will inflict bloody vengeance upon those that have wronged him and his master. Already he has taken the final steps to becoming that which Obi-Wan had trained him to never become. The people of Coruscant whispered that he was now half a man and half a machine. Rumors had spread via the HoloNet that after his return to Coruscant a year ago that he had undergone several modifications to correct injuries he'd sustained following a long battle with his former friend and mentor. Speculation was that he had been broken, limbs severed, his flesh burned away, left for near death, defeated. They were all mistaken. He had not been defeated by his former master on the planet of Mustafar. It was the other way around. It was Obi-Wan that had been sent down into that burning pit, his limbs brutally hacked away from his body, his flesh burned away from his bones. It was Obi-Wan who had died, taking the last vestige of Anakin's humanity with him.

The only missing appendage that Anakin had was the one he had lost in an empty hangar on Geonosis in a grueling battle with the nefarious Count Dooku. That limb had been replaced with a mechanical one that whizzed whenever he flexed the metallic fingers. It was his greatest physical flaw, but not his only one of course. He had another; a thin scar above his right eye. A thin reminder of his battles with the vile traitor, Asajj Ventress. It was the only imperfection that people could see, the only one he was forced to let them see. Because this minor imperfection was more difficult to hide than his missing limb. A black glove could not conceal a scar upon the face as it did a missing hand.

And that glove was proof, in his opinion, that everyone lived behind a veil of secrecy. Even the greatest of men could hide what they didn't want the world to know, he realized as he stood overlooking the busy nightlife of Coruscant from his apartment balcony. An apartment that was silent as a tomb, mourning the loss of life that had filled it barely a year ago. _Her_ memory was still there, her presence everywhere, tormenting him, torturing his already shattered mind and reminding him daily of what he had cost himself with his foolish arrogance and jealousy.

These were his other faults. Flaws that were not visible to the naked eye unless he allowed them to be. All were things that he had been reprimanded for by the Jedi council, by his former Master, and by himself before he had realized that they were not real imperfections. They were the characteristics that marked him as the man he'd finally become. _The Hero without Fear_ they had called him. A title that at one time would have embarrassed him, but no longer. A title that would have been a great joke between he and his former master. But that relationship, that camaraderie, was no more. He heard the whispers of those brave enough to speak about him. He viewed the looks from those daring enough to train their expressions in his direction.

Loudly they echoed the sentiments that he, himself has thought frequently. _Traitor. Murderer. Fallen Jedi. Dark Lord of the Sith_. He was everything that they thought of him, and more. He was things that they had not even heard of him being. Things that would make them gag with the sheer brutality of the actions. Feats that would make them fear him even more then they did already. Fear he had heard whispered by the dragon that guided him, was for the _fearful_. It was for the strong, the weak, the innocent, the corrupt. Fear, he realized as he turned slowly to peer with glimmering yellow eyes into the dark recesses of the place that he called home, was his ally and his greatest enemy.

They didn't understand why he had made the choice to become the man that he was now. They didn't see, they didn't understand, they didn't know, that he had done all of this with the intention of being able to save the woman he had loved. Would love for the rest of his life he realized, the anger and the fear fading away from his heart and leaving him as little more then a bitter, empty shell. He had done all of this for her. To keep her from dying as his mother had. He had promised her that one day he was going to become the most powerful Jedi ever. He would be able to stop death. Never had he imagined that it would be him that would cause hers. Never had he imagined that the dreams that had plagued him would be from the cause of his own hand.

_He loved her. _

_He would never hurt her. _

_He could never hurt her._

Yet even as he whispered those things to himself he knew that there was no way to deny that it was not him who had killed her. If only he had been able to confide in the Jedi Council he realized. If only he had been able to confide in Obi-Wan. If only he had been able to trust in Windu. His precious Padme would be alive right now had he been able to do what he'd known was right. She would be safe within his arms, where she belonged. He would be able to touch that face that reminded him so much of the angels on Iego, kiss those lips that tasted like the aleudrupe berry, feel that sweet breath blowing upon his feverish skin. Had he just believed...

The lights of the world going on below him swam before Anakin's vision as he recalled the final look of undying love and forgiveness that had been on Padme's face before she had collapsed at his feet, unconscious... An anguished moan was ripped from deep within him, and he groped blindly for the balcony railing, needing an anchor to hold him as the memories he'd tried to stop from coming, came now with a vengeance. He should have saved her. To late did he realize that the man he had sworn to aide, to protect, to defend, to become apprentice to, was the one who had deceived him most of all... He had caused everything that he most feared happening. And there was no way to go back and change any of it. It was then, in that moment of clarity that Anakin Skywalker remembered the first words Master Yoda had spoken to him: "fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering."

Thus he stood there on this veranda that he'd once stood upon with her, his head bowed, shoulders slumped as he fought against the fear inside him. His thoughts dwelled upon the life he had lived, had once enjoyed, had once wanted to be a big part of. Attachments that he has never been able to allow himself to let go of start to rise up inside his heart and threaten to swallow him entirely whole. _I am the Hero without Fear_! He screamed the words silently, shaking awake the dragon that dwelled in the cavernous caves of his mind. He was the most powerful Jedi to ever exist. And yet, he thought bitterly, he was nothing but the lowly apprentice of a man who would never willingly grant him the rank of Master.

Again, only in one of his infrequent moments of mental clarity did he see all he had lost. Only now did he see that his fall to the dark side was a well-orchestrated, well planned, well instigated one. If he had never vowed allegiance to a cause he knew was wrong, if he had never listened to the words said to him- allowed those slippery words to boost his confidence and his ego-then everything would have turned out differently. Had he not been blinded by the dark side, had he trusted in the Council and went to them after Palpatine had declared that he was the Sith they had been searching for, none of what happened, would have happened. The galaxy would not be under the iron thumb of an evil man, the Jedi would not have been purged, and his life would not be in shambles.

A sigh was expelled into the artificial night air, one that was designed to clear away all of these thoughts and memories pressing down upon him. It was no good to be thinking any of this, anyway. The Emperor could be near and he could sense what was being thought. And he, Anakin knew, a dark smile curving his lips, felt absolutely no remorse in using what information he gleaned from his mind against his apprentice. To use those thoughts and feelings in order to control and manipulate his apprentice. Anakin vowed that he was not going to allow his Master the privilege of controlling him for much longer.

It was then that the Force sent a tingle up his spine that Anakin knew came from the approaching presence of the man he had sworn his allegiance to more than eleven months before. How impressive, he thought as he slowly began to turn in the direction the Sith Lord approached. _He comes much like a dog at the beck of its owner_. He was not to be disappointed as the seemingly aged and stooped figure appeared from within the dark shadows of the apartment a few seconds later. Darth Sidious made his way to where Anakin stood at the railing.

"Lord Vader," that razor-whip voice spoke into the night, grating on Anakin's already raw nerves.

It was only with practiced effort that Anakin smothered the hatred and anger and disgust that he felt for the dark-cloaked man in front of him. It was only his extreme control and fear that kept him from going for the lightsaber clipped to his belt. It was only with the utmost of patience that he refrained from making what could become his most fatal mistake.

"Yes, my Master?" he questioned in a soft voice as he looked at the white face that peeked out of the black cowl drawn low.

It was a voice void of anger and emotion but full of arrogant insolence. It was a voice that the shadow knew, and well, for it was the one that his apprentice used whenever he was displeased. He was going to have to squash this behavior, and soon, he realized. It would not do to allow his apprentice the luxury of thinking, _believing_, that he could one day strike him down.

"A transport will be landing shortly with a very important individual aboard. I want you to meet the ship at the docking platform and bring this individual to me, personally."

"Of course, my Master," Anakin replied automatically.

_Of course_, the dragon whispered slyly to him. But what else could he say—could he do? _He_ was the dragon. He was Darth Vader. And he had to obey his Master's command. _For now, _he thought silently.

"I will bring this individual to you as you command."

Neither his voice nor his face so much as hinted at the extent of the anger he felt at being sent upon what he saw as a foolish mission. The Emperor knew this though, had counted upon his anger in fact. He knew everything about his new apprentice after all. Wasn't that how he had managed to destroy the Jedi, once and for all?


End file.
